


to move forward together

by ValentinesValentine (UnfinishedProject)



Series: overcoming [3]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Dirty Thoughts, F/M, Flirting, Implied Sexual Content, POV Male Character, Protectiveness, Rivalry, Workplace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:53:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27895618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnfinishedProject/pseuds/ValentinesValentine
Summary: Politics aren't his strength — she was the diplomatic one. But he promised to support her, may it come to Directorate meetings or investigations into Division leaders. He thought it would be boring but it seems Nora can always find a way to keep him entertained.
Relationships: Female Sole Survivor/X6-88
Series: overcoming [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2018095
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	to move forward together

He stood by the window behind her chair, watching with a hand on her shoulder as the Division leaders arrived. Her hand fell from where it laid over his, and, for a passing second, he longed to grasp it in his, lace his fingers with hers — and let everyone know what they probably assumed. She already let her stance on synths be known, showing even the escaped ones the same compassion that enamored him. But not everyone shared her views, and even their proximity without touching garnered a frown from Ayo on arrival. He learned to ignore him during the numerous years he worked for Synth Retention, but much of his respect for the scientist disappeared when the vindictive remarks about her started. 

He had her doubts about her, too, in the beginning but he refrained from sharing them. And since then, she's proven herself as a capable fighter and a fascinating partner, finding the right words to say and the right places to touch while he fumbled along by her side. She never made him feel inadequate in any way — and now she was leading the Institute with the same grace and thoughtfulness. Even if she worked hard, the changes she wanted to make would come slow — but she's shown immense patience with him, not doubting that she'd give the same benefit to all personnel. 

"Thank you for coming." It sounded like she made it voluntary to attend and he was left wondering what need was for such formalities. For the most part she was soft-spoken, even when swindling merchants or pressing for information, and respectful — and he figured it was just who she was, unchanged by even the horrors around her. She was well-liked, even if still viewed as an outsider by many — and, somehow through her continued aid of the Minutemen, she even managed to improve the general wastelander's judgment of the Institute. 

"Why's your brute here? I thought this was a _Directorate_ meeting." The insult was nothing he hasn't heard before, he and his kind was feared and hated throughout the Commonwealth. But it was hard to let the disrespect towards her fly; fingers curling and uncurling as she threw him a soft, soothing glance. She was a pacifist as much the new world allowed for, and it was difficult sometimes for him not to resort to the only thing he knew in the past; violence. 

"You'll know in a short time, Ayo." The smile she had chilled the blood even in his veins — and he knew what was coming for Ayo. He was the one who investigated, at her behest, into the threat his continued uncooperative behavior posed; but it would be a discussion later into the meeting. It was admirable to him how she could let his mutters go ignored, turning to another Division head as if he didn't even exist. "Allie, how are things going with the new arrangements? I hope it's not causing any problems." 

There was genuine concern in her voice and he knew that she's been second guessing some of the policies she introduced. He tried his best to reassure her — but he understood little of the struggles that leading the Institute meant. Politics were never part of his curriculum and, until he wasn't involved by proxy, he didn't care much. Synths, especially coursers, didn't possess much finesse for diplomacy — and only a select few, like unit M7-62, were given the necessary personality modules. But unlike him, she was trained for this from what he understood about her life in the past; working with sensitive and complex information to find the best course of action. 

"None at the moment. Stopping synth production altogether might lead to shortages in the future, however." He felt Doctor Filmore's gaze on himself, as if trying to gauge his reaction — not as if that mattered any. Filmore didn't seem afraid of him, just how she never really did; but he shrugged it off as comfort due to being in charge of most synths and not a lack of familiarity with the nature of coursers. Most people would run or hide when a courser appeared, but _she_ was just beckoning him closer with or without words that had him frequently confused. Even now she was attracting his gaze away from Filmore, even if she did nothing but cross or uncross her legs under the table. 

It was hard to concentrate on the conversations flowing between her and the other Division leaders when she's been showing off so much skin he only ever saw within the walls of her room. He couldn't say he minded the change, her tight jumpsuits or torn, flimsy clothes just as capable of clouding his mind with needs that he couldn't or wouldn't always act upon. The skirt, that while standing reached around her knees, now hitched up as she lounged in her chair; just high enough that the lacy edges of her thighs were visible from where he stood. He wasn't sure if she teased him on purpose or if that was how clothes shifted on their own but he hoped for the meeting to conclude soon. 

"Thank you, Madison. I know he can be a handful sometimes." Her chuckle about whatever has been said just before her offer of gratitude dragged him from his lingering thoughts of what he could just do to her if they were alone in the meeting room. It wasn't a question of negligence from her part that lead him to such ideas — he's been growing comfortable under her soft, loving touches and breathless whispers enough to yearn for new experiences. She was perfect in every sense of the word but he wanted to make her keen and reel from pleasure without waiting for or needing her encouragement. 

He tore away his gaze finally from her and the meeting seemed to drag on even more slowly now that he couldn't entertain himself with the lingering fantasies about her. He hoped there was nothing to show for, that the courser uniform was thick enough to hide what his pants couldn't alone. But he needed to focus on different things now, catching bits of her conversation with Holdren and Volkert. She was encouraging of the latter's research into plant based medication — offering as appeasement to Holdren the renovation of the FEV labs into more space for hydroponics. He felt lost between the number of shorthands and scientific words, wondering how could she manage when her field of expertise fell so far from what the Institute did. There was no doubt about her intelligence, her quick wit that often left him speechless, just like the ones she attempted to talk down from conflict or scam for better deals — not to mention all the shameless, sinful phrases that rolled off her tongue with the same ease one might discuss the weather. 

"Well, then, Ayo." She practically seethed the name out as she turned, digging into the folder that laid untouched on the table until now. He knew what was in there, a few pictures of Ayo and a couple of scientists from another Division meeting in secret, log transcripts from personal terminals and a written witness report. The thoroughness she handled the issue with made him sure that she was outstanding in her field before the war — and that she cared about the Institute, not acting recklessly on accusations just to strengthen her influence. And she was fair, offering a chance to Ayo to explain himself — pushing one of the pictures across the table to him. 

He didn't remember Ayo looking so distressed ever — not even when the news of unit Z2-47's liquidation reached them. There was enough evidence gathered that she could've acted without trying to reason with him — conspiring to have her removed from the position of Director could hardly be handwaved as a misunderstanding. Four different voices quipped in, some astonished, some disappointed, but all asking if it was true. His fright and senseless muttering seemed just as damning as if he'd try to run — and she seemed to be running out of patience that she had so much for him. 

Ayo just spit at the floor by her feet and if it weren't for her fingers wrapping around his wrist, he'd be at his neck — regardless of the consequences he'd have to deal with. He's been used to, after years of existence, contempt and disrespect from the people of the Commonwealth — but he found it hard to stand by when it was targeted at her. She was more than capable of defending herself, whether it came to physical fights or debates, but this newfound intolerance, that flicker of anger seemed to be part of the irrational emotions that came with loving her. But she's been nothing but affectionate with him, never giving him any reason to doubt his feelings and commitment — that was him alone, unable to shake the feeling that he was rewarded more than he earned. But it wasn't about him now and he remained by her side, relaxing under the warmth of her touch. 

"Nothing? I'll take that as an admission of guilt then." She waved over the two synth guards as she rose, and he watched as panic twisted Ayo's features. He was familiar with eyes casting about for an escape route, hands trembling often so much that bullets wouldn't even scrape his coat or the profuse sweating that mixed into the foul smell of death with spilled blood and singed flesh. But he didn't have words for the feeling that watching Ayo being dragged away evoked; some bitter or twisted humor, a grotesque punishment for all the synths that suffered the same fate under his orders. He wasn't sure exile was the solution but he didn't push her for probation if she felt threatened as long the traitors remained in the Institute. She did consider his opinion, encouraging him to share his views — the only thing she was firm about was no execution. That way, she reasoned, they wouldn't suffer the consequences — she preferred life sentences over death even before the war. "Let him pack his belongings and then escort him to the Relay room." 

Ayo's empty threats filtered in as he was taken away but it was hard, if not impossible, to take any seriously. He looked out through the window while she apologized for the scene on Ayo's behalf — not as if he'd deserve any of her compassion. The hand coming to a rest on his shoulder caught him off guard and he stared at her faint reflection on the glass before facing her. There was a smile on her lips, one that often prompted him to cradle a cheek and pull her in for a kiss; and he had to fight against his urge to do so in front of an audience. He wasn't exactly sure what bothered him more, that there would be eyes on them or that he couldn't do more than place a peck against her skin. 

"Sit, please." She inclined towards the now vacant chair of Ayo, and it didn't sound like he had much of a choice. She'd never order him to do anything against his will but she had to keep up some appearances — she could've asked things plenty more embarrassing. He expected more complaints but none of the Division leaders cared much about his presence. She remained standing, knuckles resting on the edge of the table — looking every bit as the Director should. 

"I hope I can count on your cooperation with future investigations." She told him about her concerns that it might've spread farther than just Ayo and the two BioScience researchers. He felt relieved that she considered and accepted his request to drop the secrecy, though he understood her reasons before — Ayo could've been a dangerous person to make an enemy. "As before," she continued, gesturing towards him, "X6-88 will handle all issues if there's any such threat. For now, I'd like to put it behind us and work together." 

It sounded strange to be addressed by his unit designation after so many weeks of being called darling or a name that now he considered his own. But to everyone else present, or within the Institute, he was known as X6-88, something he hasn't identified as in some time. He was still a synth, he had no problem with such distinction from her, but he now found his own person to be; but it couldn't be without her. She kicked up his belief system and maybe it was what the Institute needed, to have the customs perpetuated though decades be replaced, refreshed. And part of that was new leadership, something Ayo's removal finally allowed for. 

"However, Synth Retention needs an acting director given Doctor Zimmer's continued absence. I'd like for each of you to put forward a candidate at the next meeting." If she wanted, she could've just appointed him to lead the Division however controversial that choice would've been. She played with the thought but, given that mischievous glee she addressed him with the title, it seemed to be more of a personal indulgence than a serious thought. And he would've refused; as much he disliked the task of looking after her in the beginning, he enjoyed the time they spent together now just as much. "In the meantime, I'll put out a poll in the affected Divisions. I trust your insight will allow me to pick the best candidate." 

There were a few questions she was more than willing to answer, and he was happy to see her more relaxed now that Ayo wasn't in the meeting room. She still sat with a straight back, though she always seemed to be prim and proper — even when she was covered in grim after a firefight. But he was familiar with that little smile playing on her lips as she twirled a pen, playing innocent in front of the Directorate. She was anything but; hooking her legs around his own under the table, caressing his calf ever so slightly that only he would notice. Any other time, he wouldn't mind her attention, the teasing gestures that she dropped every now and then during the meeting — but it felt like the worst kind of torture. 

For his luck, the meeting ended after a few amicable jokes and remarks; and she stood to see them out. She worked hard and the sigh rolling off her lips as she closed the door behind the last to leave didn't surprise him. Being the Director was never her wish, only going through with the promise to Father to honor his memory. He would've been happier, too, if everything was just as before; with the two of them going on, what she only dubbed as, _adventures_. When they were out in the wasteland, they didn't need to pretend — they could just be a man and woman in love without being judged. 

"Thank you for being by my side." Her fingers brushed across his cheek, and he leant into the touch he craved since the beginning of the meeting — pressing his lips to the inside of her wrist. She chuckled, the first genuine laughter he heard from her throughout the day; and even he smiled up at her in return. It was tempting to leave a trail of kisses along her exposed forearm, to get back at her for the teasing even just a little — but he wasn't sure he could stop at just that. 

"I'm always here if you need me, Nora." It was only natural that he'd support her any way she saw fit — whether it was slugging through Directorate meetings or making her cling to him with a breathless moan in her bed. But he also felt it part of his responsibility to look after her when there were too many issues to handle; just as he promised to Father months ago. Although he felt like failing recently — she's been working night and day ever since she heard about the conspiracy. And even when she didn't, she was too anxious to catch a break. "You did great today. You deserve to relax a little." 

"You have anything in mind, darling?" There was that mischievous glint in her eyes again that had his heart race in anticipation; and he didn't have to wait long for her lips to catch his in a kiss. His fingers grasped at her waist, holding onto her as he rose to wrap her into an embrace. She was breathless when he let her go, hair disheveled as if she just got up. It was his favorite sight, knowing that when she woke up like this, it was because he spent the night in her arms, giving her the affection she deserved and more.

**Author's Note:**

> I combined _Plugging a Leak_ and _A House Divided_ for this.  
> Also, the next one will be a prequel but after that this piece will get two alternative sequels.


End file.
